


Double Double That That

by Tawryn



Series: Double Trouble [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Double Penetration, Everyone Is Poly Because Avengers, Fisting, Light Dom/sub, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Steve Rogers does not have a magical dick, Threesome - M/M/M, now with MORE bad puns, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2016-02-11
Packaged: 2018-05-19 17:16:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5975176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tawryn/pseuds/Tawryn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“We are gathered here today, in the sight of this terrifying witness, to discuss the union of your two dicks in my ass.”</i>
</p>
<p>In which Tony’s communication has improved (sort of), Clint’s still a good guy who’s down for anything, and Steve continues to draw from his surprisingly deep well of sexual experience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Double Double That That

**Author's Note:**

> [Me while writing this.](http://i.imgur.com/VW9LeaB.gif)
> 
> Ha. But really, this story’s been collecting dust on my hard drive for a long time. Finally picked it up and finished it, because the porn must go on. I strove to make the puns just as bad this time around. I think I succeeded.

 

“So,” Tony says, flicking his knife in Steve’s direction. A glob of mayo lands on Steve’s shirt and he shoots Tony an exasperated glare. “Whoops. But hey, that’s a good look on you, Cap.”

“I’m gonna choose to ignore that.”

“Good call. Anyway, I think it’s time for another sandwich,” Tony says, putting the knife down and taking a bite of his BLT. “And I’m not talking about this one.”

Steve grabs a dishtowel and carefully wipes at his shirt. “I could go for a good pastrami on rye if you’re offering.”

“Not what I’m getting at.” Tony’s mouth quirks into a half grin.  “This offer is more of the Stark special variety.”

Steve shakes his head, but Tony can see he’s fighting a smile. “You can come right out and say it, Tony.”

“That’s no fun. Besides, you love my innuendos.”

“No, everyone hates your innuendos,” Clint slides into the kitchen and conversation with ease, perching on the stool next to Tony. “Especially Tasha.”

Tony makes a face. “She hates everything.” Clint’s looking exceptionally good this afternoon, freshly showered from the gym, and Tony doesn’t stop himself from leaning over to slide a hand up his thigh. Clint looks up from under his eyelashes, gives him a ridiculous wink, and then leans in, taking an enormous bite of his sandwich.

“Oh my _god_ , you glutton,” Tony whines. “It’s half gone now!”

“Yeah, well, I was half a virgin when I met you.” Clint replies, chewing with relish.

Steve chuckles and Tony’s surprised by it still. He never expected that the star-spangled asshole would turn out to be a decent guy, you know, complete with an actual sense of humor and a dick that could make angels sing. First impressions. Who knew?

Natasha walks in— or prowls rather, like the sneaky man-eating lioness she is— and hops up on the counter, crossing her legs and rifling through the fruit bowl. Tony would like to remind her that Italian marble countertop is for _glasses_ , not _asses_ , but the cool look she gives him as she bites into an apple is enough to keep him from voicing a complaint.

“Alright, so anyway,” Tony says, polishing off the last of his sandwich. “We are gathered here today, in the sight of this terrifying witness, to discuss the union of your two dicks in my ass.”

“We are?” Clint raises an eyebrow. “Man, I gotta start checking the company email.”

Steve hides a smile behind his coffee cup and Natasha looks like she might be close to one. He's getting better at reading her expressions. Tony thinks, going off anecdotal evidence from Bruce, that she only plays the sphinx around him. Somehow that knowledge doesn't make her any less intimidating.

“Ha ha, Hunger Games,” Tony says. “So, you ready for the sequel? _Weapons of Ass Destruction: Part Two?”_

Clint and Steve groan; Natasha’s almost smile is gone now, replaced by the contemplative murder face that Tony’s grown so fond of.

“No? What about, _A Tale of Two Dicks?_ _The Umpires Strike from the Back?”_

“Make another pun,” Natasha threatens. “I dare you.”

Tony sighs. “None of you appreciate me for my humor. These are _gold_.”

“But we love you for body,” Clint says with a grin. “And sure, I’m down to go bowling in your colon.”

Natasha makes a noise of disgust as she leaves, Steve’s covering his face in an effort to hold back his laughter, but Tony’s got his arms around Clint, whispering, “Marry me, Clint Barton, I think I love you,” in a ridiculous French accent and thinking this Avengers thing has honestly been one of the best things to happen to him _ever_.

.

They talk it out and end up putting it on the schedule for the next available night— Steve actually pulls out his calendar _and pencils it in,_ hand to god— but Victor Von Cockblock must have something against three guys having a good time, because he sends a legion of Doombots into the city to ruin Tony’s double dick date. By the time the team gets back, Tony feels like he’s been hit by a truck. He grumbles out the usual amount of complaint and thinks it’s a good thing he went with the plush conversation pit look for the living room, because he ends up passed out in a tangle of limbs on the floor.

He awakens to the smell of coffee and Clint drooling into his ear.

“Ngghh,” Tony grunts. His arm is crushed under Thor’s shoulder, unfortunately numb, and he wiggles it out and sits up, blinking blearily. Everyone’s usually a little more touchy-feely after a battle, a little less respectful of personal space boundaries, so what he sees is pretty par for the course. Natasha sleeping next to Clint, back to back, Thor rolling into the warm space he just vacated, and Steve and Bruce standing at the kitchen island, drinking coffee in comfortable silence. Tony clambers to his feet and autopilots himself to a cup of joe, sliding into the space between Bruce and Steve with a soft noise.

“How’re you feeling?” Bruce asks. He uses his free hand to rub the back of Tony’s neck and Tony groans, because it feels fucking amazing.

“Fine. Nothing coffee and a hot shower won’t fix.” He drains a third of his cup in one long pull. It burns like a motherfucker, but cuts through the morning fog like nothing else. “We gonna cash in that rain check tonight, Cap?”

Steve looks at him with fond amusement. “You sure you’re up for it?”

“Up, down, sideways, you name it,” Tony leers. Or tries to leer, but his arm chooses that moment to come back to life, so his delivery suffers from an attack of wheezy laughter.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Bruce asks, and Steve is staring at him like he might call off tonight’s double feature, which _no_.

“It’s nothing,” Tony protests. “My arm was asleep. It’s now, _ahhh_ , less asleep.”

“If you say so.” Steve grins and reaches out to, oh my god, squeeze his arm, what a _dick_. “Take it easy today and be ready by eight o’clock.”

Tony decides to interpret that literally and after a long shower to soothe his aching muscles, he climbs into bed and spends a delicious half an hour stretching himself open. It’s torturous, but _good_ , bringing himself to the edge and pulling back until he’s coiled tight like a spring. He grabs his biggest plug and slides it into his ass with a groan. He’s going to spend all day held open for Clint and Steve and that’s gotta be textbook masochism, seriously, winding yourself up of your own volition? He might have a problem.

He dresses, the plug shifting inside him with a presence that demands to be felt. This is either the best bad idea or the worst good idea Tony’s ever had and it’s _awesome_.

He’s got a few hours to lose, so he decides to head for the lab. He hasn’t invented time travel yet, but working on a project is a near thing, the way the minutes fly away. Natasha is standing in the elevator when it opens and Tony only needs to take two steps— what _is_ it with super spy perception?— before her lips curl up in a slow smirk.

“I see you’ve got a fun day ahead of you,” she says.

“And an evening and possibly a whole night, if I play my cards right,” Tony tells her.

“Did Steve have you–” she starts, but then cuts herself off, smirk growing wider. “Oh no, you did it without being _ordered_ to, didn’t you?”

Tony hears the emphasis and rolls his eyes. “I barely follow Cap’s orders in the field,” which is a total lie, he’s gotten much better about that, “so what makes you think I’d do it inside the bedroom?”

“It’s something we enjoy from time to time,” Natasha explains, shrugging coolly. “But I guess it’s not for everyone.”

And wow, okay, that sexy Steve and Natasha thought train definitely makes his dick jump in his pants. Which _of course_ leads to him clenching around the plug, holy fuck. Get it together, Stark.

“Sometimes I order him around instead,” she continues on blithely. “My favorite thing to do is to order him to get hard again right after he comes.”

“What?” Tony splutters. “That can’t even be possible.”

Natasha laughs. “Maybe not for _you_.” And she exits the elevator, leaving Tony wondering if that was a dig at his dick or at his ability to command Steve’s, and also, yeah, rock hard in his pants.

Fuck, he’s not going to make it.

.

He does end up making it to eight o’clock, but only after narrowly beating back— haha— the idea of taking himself in hand at least twice. He’s been hard off and on all day and his balls are straight up aching, so by the time he walks into Steve’s bedroom, he’s pretty much a mess.

“Oh god, please give it to me,” Tony whines, ripping his shirt off and flopping facedown onto the sheets. “The double D, the regular D, fuck, I don’t care, but someone just get a dick in me _right now_.”

He looks back over his shoulder to see Clint and Steve sharing an amused look. Steve takes a step forward and runs a hand down Tony’s back, and when he brushes against the back of his pants, Tony legit thinks he _mewls_.

“Tony, what did you do?” Steve asks.

“You said be ready and I’m ready,” Tony says, unbuttoning his jeans and kicking them off. “I’m so ready. I’ve been ready, I was born ready, and I’m going to die ready unless one of you gets your dick inside me, pronto.”

Clint pulls down Tony’s boxer-briefs and mutters a small _fuck_ when he sees the plug. He taps the base a few times and Tony squirms, the sensation flickering up his spine like electricity.

“How long you had this in?” Clint asks, continuing to drum his fingers against the plug’s flared base.

“Uh,” Tony tries to think. “Few hours?”

Clint’s fingers stop drumming and Tony finds himself sucking in a sharp breath when the plug twists inside him.

“Wow, you’re really keyed up, huh? Hmm, I wonder if I–”

The feel of Clint ghosting a hand over his balls while he’s thrusts the plug against Tony’s prostate is enough to make him stutter over the “holy god,” that comes out of his mouth.

“Oh, you’re gonna be so much _fun_ tonight,” Clint laughs and Steve joins him. Part of Tony thinks, _what have I done_ ; the other part thinks, _what I have_ done _is amazing. High five, me._

“Hands and knees,” Steve says. Clint’s hands fall away, totally unfair, and Tony scrambles to comply so that they can return to their rightful place on his body. Someone grabs the plug again, Steve, he thinks, and begins to draw it out of him only to push it back in once it gets to the widest part. Tony presses his face into the sheets and groans.

“Want a little more, baby?”

Tony nods wordlessly. Steve fucks the plug into him harder, nailing his sweet spot and reducing him to breathy little whines. He feels too warm all over, his dick leaking between his legs, and when Clint finally wraps a hand around the shaft Tony has to bite back a sob. Steve stills his hand and then pulls back slowly until the plug pops out with a dirty squelching noise.

He feels so _empty_ without it, his asshole stretched wide and fluttering, and he doesn’t think it’s possible to be any more turned on until Steve says,

“Look at you, you’re fucking gaping. Jesus. Bet I could fit my whole fist in there.”

And just. Wow.

It’s not something they’ve really covered in depth, but then it’s not one of his limits either. Tony had just never found the idea all that titillating. A belief that’s obviously changed now, going by how badly he suddenly seems to want Steve’s fist in his ass.

“Fuck, yes,” Tony breathes.

“Yes? Yes, what?” Steve drags a hand down his back, his fingernails skimming the skin.

“Your fist.”

“You’re gonna need to be a little more specific than that,” Steve says. “Use your words, Tony.”

Steve can be such a _dick_ sometimes, god. “Yes, put your fucking fist in me, asshole!”

“You serious?” Clint asks. “Because that definitely sounds like a great idea.”

“ _Yes_ , I’m serious. What’s it take for a guy to– _Jesus Christ, Steve._ ” He’s suddenly got three fingers in him with no preamble.

“How’s that?” Steve asks. “Good?”

It feels fucking fantastic. “Yeah, s’good.”

Steve uses his fingers to work him over and it’s underhanded, really, how he’s learned just where to put them to best ratchet up Tony’s desperation.

“Steve. _Fuck_ , Steve.”

“Shh, I got you,” Steve says, slipping another finger inside him. Tony can feel it now, the uncomfortable stretch, his breath growing shaky.

“You’re okay,” Clint tells him. He’s still stroking Tony’s cock, slowly, like there’s nowhere else he’d rather be. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart.”

“Clint,” he whines, dropping his head down and feeling his cheeks flush.

“Oh, sorry,” Clint laughs. He kisses Tony’s forehead and tucks a piece of hair behind his ear. “Did you want to be called a filthy slut today?”

“Too late,” Tony complains. “The mood is ruined.”

He pretends he doesn’t like it, he feels like he shouldn’t, but really, the pet names give him an embarrassing thrill. He doesn’t know what makes it so hot, being coddled and cooed at while he’s being pulled apart, but it’s a button alright. One that Clint in particular likes to push.

Steve lays a slap down on the inside of one of his thighs. “Stop whining, you big baby.” He’s fucking his fingers into Tony’s ass smoothly now. Each time he grazes Tony’s prostate it’s like getting hit with a violet wand, a low-grade hum continuing to build and build, flickering over his skin. All he feels is pressure, pushing down on him, burning him down.

“Damn. Look at you taking all five,” Clint says, and when the fuck did that happen?

Steve stops to add more lube and then he’s moving his hand again like it’s as easy as breathing, like he fists people every day. Tony’s trying to wrap his head around the fact that Steve’s _entire hand_ is in his ass right now. It’s incredibly intimate when he thinks about it, letting someone inside him like this, and now that he’s got it all he wants is to keep going. He feels pieces of himself falling away with every slide of Steve’s hand until he’s just a greedy, insatiable mess.

“More,” Tony begs. “Steve, more, please.”

“Alright, alright,” Steve says softly. “I’m gonna curl my fingers up now. Ready?”

He doesn’t get a chance to reply before Steve’s doing just that, Clint’s hands coming up to hold his hips steady. The sound that comes out of him is some kind otherworldly, guttural grunt, like they’re exorcising a demon. An ass demon.

“Good job, beautiful,” says Clint. He nudges his cock against the corner of Tony’s mouth. “Here you go, babe. Open up.”

Tony wraps his lips around Clint gladly, giving him a gentle suck and tracing under the head with his tongue. Clint groans when the tip of his cock bumps against the back of Tony’s throat and he fists a hand in Tony’s hair, dragging him forward to take more of it. Tony lets himself be led, swallowing around Clint’s cock and burying his nose against his stomach. Clint sets an easy pace, thrusting gently into Tony’s throat and giving him enough space to breathe before he does it again. Such a gentleman.

Steve’s also gentle, minutely moving his fist inside Tony, gauging his reactions. He feels so _full_. The pressure is insane, yeah, but it’s _good_. Crazy good. Then, the hand that’s not inside him reaches around and grabs his dick and holy shit, Tony could die right now. Steve makes a little knocking motion against his prostate and fuck, he feels like he could almost shoot off. He’s stuffed on both ends, Steve stroking his cock with the loose, maddening grip he knows Tony likes, and then he twists his fist and Tony drags his mouth off of Clint’s cock with a wail.

Steve immediately takes his hand off Tony’s cock.

“Don’t you dare fucking come,” he threatens, continuing to move his fist in Tony’s ass. But fuck, fuck, it feels like he’s playing Punch Out with his insides and Tony can’t. He just can’t.

“I can’t, I can’t, ‘m gonna,” he hears himself moan. He’s right on the edge, he’s there, it doesn’t matter that Steve’s not touching his dick, he’s gonna come untouched, but then Steve stops moving abruptly and pinches the skin right behind Tony’s balls hard enough to make him yell.

“What did I say?” Steve asks mildly.

“God, fuck! Christ,” he sobs. He feels Clint stroke his hair soothingly, like they’re playing some fucked up version of Good Cop/Bad Cop.

Steve motions something to Clint and then they’re carefully maneuvering him so he’s on his back with Clint underneath him. Steve’s fist stays inside him the whole time and Tony can’t stop the pathetic whimpers and groans that bubble up out of his chest. Then Clint’s slicked up cock is nudging against Steve’s hand and Tony gasps, suddenly realizing what they plan to do.

“Nonono,” he protests, trying to squirm away. Clint’s arms come up and lock around his, keeping him immobile, and his teeth close around Tony’s ear.

“That’s not the safeword,” he whispers with a dark chuckle.

“I _know_ that’s not the safeword, you assho–” he breaks off with a gasp as Steve skims his teeth over Tony’s dick. He closes his mouth over his cock and Tony’s distracted for one glorious moment of heat, and then Steve’s sliding two fingers in beside his fist and Tony shudders. He tries to wriggle away, but all that succeeds in doing is getting Steve to pull off his dick with an obscene pop.

“Be still,” he says. And he’s using his fucking Dom voice, the one that always turns Tony to absolute putty. It doesn’t fail this time.

Steve uses his fingers to help Clint get the head of his dick inside. “Don’t pretend you can’t take it, princess. Your sloppy hole was made for this.” Clint’s dick pushes just the slightest bit into Tony’s ass and he groans. “See? You need it.”

Clint’s glacially slow, but the feel of his cock pressing alongside Steve’s fist is almost too much. Tony bites down on his lip and whines uselessly, trying to reassure himself that even though it might feel like it, Steve loves his ass and wouldn’t actually let it be torn apart. After what feels like an eternity, Clint’s dick is finally buried to the hilt.

“You okay, baby?” Clint presses a kiss against the back of his neck and Tony takes a shuddery breath.

“Yeah.”

Clint rocks his hips up and into him, small movements that can’t be doing much for Clint but have Tony praying that there’s an afterlife, because this is going to kill him. He twists his fingers into the bed sheets and screws his eyes shut and just submits, lets himself be filled and pushed and pulled apart by Clint and Steve.

“You’re doing so good,” Clint breathes into his ear. “So good, taking the two of us. Are we making you feel nice, sweetheart?”

Tony makes some kind of noise, assent, dissent, he doesn’t know. _Nice_ isn’t how he’d describe this. This is so much bigger than that.

Clint reaches around and gets a hand on his cock, giving it a stroke that makes Tony groan. “How about now?” he asks, before sucking a mark into Tony’s neck.

“Don’t get him off,” Steve warns. He’s still moving his fist inside him, right beside Clint’s cock, right up against that spot inside him that makes Tony feel like he’s going to shake apart.

“I’m not, I’m not,” Clint says, adjusting his grip. He keeps on stroking, but at a pace that Tony knows won’t get him close. It suddenly all feels like too much, everything, and Tony sucks in a sharp breath, feeling tears spring up behind his eyes.

Steve, to his annoyingly perceptive credit, notices right away and stops moving. “Tony?”

“I’m fine,” Tony says. He takes a deep breath and blows it out, then opens his eyes and tries for a weak smile. “It’s okay. See?”

“Do you want to stop?” Steve asks gently while Clint runs his hands over Tony’s sides.

“ _No,_ ” he protests vehemently. “No, I– keep going?”

Steve looks at him for a moment, considering, and then turns his gaze to Clint. He jerks his head and Tony hears himself let out a little whimper as Clint pulls his cock out of Tony’s ass.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Steve says, grabbing Tony’s dick and working it back to full hardness. “Clint’s going to jerk off onto your pretty face and you’re going to come on my fist. Sound good?”

There’s not much else he can say to that. “Uh-huh,” he agrees dumbly.

Steve adds some more lube to the fist in his ass and goes right back to it, fucking him with one hand and jerking him with the other. He bites back a soft moan. This isn’t going to take long at all.

Clint climbs over him, settling his knees on either side of Tony’s arms and looking down into his face with a wolfish grin.

“You want some of this?” he asks, smirking as he fists his cock. Tony parts his mouth and nods. “Fucking love watching you, you know. Love watching you come apart, your little moans, how you whine when you get it real good,” Clint pants. Tony trails his eyes over Clint’s body down to his cock, where his hand is moving in a blur. “You ready, baby? I’m gonna paint that beautiful face of yours.”

Tony nods, closing his eyes as Clint comes with a groan. He moans as the first stripe hits him, trailing over his nose and lips. He darts a tongue out to taste and hears Clint’s breath stutter. Once he’s pretty sure Clint’s finished, Tony opens his eyes and looks up into his dazed face.

“So fucking gorgeous,” Clint says, tracing a thumb over his lips. He climbs off and Tony looks down at Steve who stares up at him with dark eyes.

“Half done,” Steve says in a low voice. “You’re next.” Coming from him, Tony isn’t sure if it’s a threat or a promise.

Steve continues playing him like an accordion and fuck, his bones feel like they’ve liquefied. He trembles, feeling something building hot and low, his skin starting to tingle as Clint runs his hands over his chest. Steve twists his fist just so and Tony cries out.      

 “Fuck,” Tony groans. “Fuck, yes.”

Steve jerks Tony a little harder and faster just as Clint’s fingers find his nipples and pinch, the pain sharpening his pleasure. “You know how to ask nicer than that.”

“Can I come? Please, can I come?” It leaves his mouth like a stream, a pathetic river of pleas. He’s burning up, his guts on fire, feeling like a string that’s been drawn tight and held in place. “Jesus, fuck, _please_ , Steve. God.”

“Come for me,” Steve says, voice dark and husky, and he wants to, right then, he does, but he’s been riding the edge for so long that he needs a little push. And Steve, wonderful Steve, leans back in, puts his mouth to his ear, and gives him just that.

“I’m not asking, Tony. I said, _come for me_.”

He shudders and sobs as he comes, his dick pulsing in Steve’s hand. Steve works him through it until Tony starts to whine, then gently removes his hands from both Tony’s dick and ass. Tony closes his eyes, feeling completely drained. He jerks when he feels something cool against his skin, but Steve just shushes him and gently cleans him up, while Clint scoots closer and puts a hand in his hair to scratch his scalp.

“How do you feel?” Steve asks.

Tony opens his eyes. Steve’s staring down at him with such tender concern that it makes his chest tighten. “Good,” he rasps, his voice more a whisper than anything.

“Alright,” replies Steve, smiling. “You just stay there for a minute, okay?”

Tony gladly obliges. He lies there lazily, curling into the warmth of Clint’s body and feeling very much like the cat that got the cream. If the cream is being fisting until your brains come out of your dick, that is. He watches with hooded eyes as Clint rolls over to suck Steve off. It doesn’t take long before Steve’s coming with a low groan. Clint swallows and flops his head back on the pillow, smacking his lips with lustful grin.

Steve climbs into bed next to Tony and buries his face in the last pillow. He slings an arm over Tony’s middle and brushes his feet against his and Clint’s. They quietly lay in bed for a few moments, before Tony remembers Natasha’s earlier taunts.

“Hey, Steve.”

“Hmm?” Steve hums, eyes closed and looking like he’s got no intention of moving for a long while.

“How long does it take you to get hard again?”

Steve opens an eye. “You can’t be serious.”

“No, hey, no,” Tony backpedals. “I am a fully satisfied customer. One-hundred and ten percent. This is a purely scientific question.”

Clint makes a small noise of amusement and Steve shakes his head a little. “I don’t know,” he says. “Twenty minutes, I guess? It depends.”

“Does it depend on if you’re _ordered_ to or not?”

“Because I’ve had loads of COs give orders to my dick,” Steve deadpans. “I don’t know, it depends on how tired I am, Tony. It’s not like I have a magic dick.”

“I _knew_ she was full of it,” Tony crows.

“Did you fall for another one of Tasha’s tall tales?” Clint snorts.  “You know she only does it because you’re so gullible.”

“I am not– wait, what do you mean _another_?”

“Oh, you sweet thing,” Clint coos, reaching out to stroke his hair. Tony shrugs his hand away with a scowl. “Don’t worry your pretty little head over it.”

“That’s it, get out of my tower. I’m done with all of you,” Tony says.

“Is it your tower though?” Steve grins. “I’m pretty sure your name’s not on it anymore.”

Tony huffs and buries his head in a pillow. “Hate you,” he mumbles.

“Back atcha, darlin’,” Clint leans in and drops a kiss to his head while Steve rubs his hands over Tony’s shoulders. It makes him all feel warm and fuzzy. Under the layer of hate, of course.

But really, all in all?

He’ll admit it to himself: his life is pretty damn good.

 

 


End file.
